Before the Hood
by steepedinshadows419
Summary: AU - Before he donned the name Robin Hood, his name was Barry Allen and all he wanted was to be with his love, Iris West. Barry/Iris. Multi-Chap. [25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction: Day 20-25]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** IT IS FINALLY HERE. THE LAST FIC OF MY _25 DAYS OF WESTALLEN FANFICTION_ EVENT. I hope you enjoy it. I've been wanting to write this one for a while. Actually, I've been wanting to write a WA Robin Hood adaptation, but I want there to be smut in that one, and since this was also written for the _WA Secret Santa_ event (giftee: **Jade4813**!) on tumblr where the rules dictated that no smut would be allowed, I settled for a prequel. I really like the end result though, and I hope you will too. I also hope I can start to tackle the sequel/main RH fic within the year. It will all depend on my motivation and how excited you all are to see it happen. Let me know your thoughts in the comments!

 ***** Many thanks to **sendtherain** for beta'ing.

 ***** I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

 **Chapter 1 -**

Collin Woods.

A place thick with trees, alive with wildlife, and far from any central city on the map. Two hundred miles away from the literal Central City, in fact. Within the woods was contained the small town of the same name, the only structure cresting above the trees being the stone castle of the royals. Previously residing there was King Richard – a loyal, good king who took care of his people and helped the town flourish with bountiful riches and a thriving population. But within the past several months, he had left the town and its people to embark on the noble quest of fighting in the Crusades. In his place, he left his younger brother, Prince John, a selfish, spoiled, adolescent fool who little by little drained the small town of its resources until the only thing rich and satisfying to the eye could be found within the castle grounds.

Many of the young men of the town had gone off to fight in the Crusades with their King. Not all could go, because work needed to be done that could not only be sustained by older men, women, and children. Some left not only for the cause itself, but to escape the death trap that had become their once thriving homeland. War with all its drudgery, pain, and rate of death on the battlefield was still a welcome reprieve. To those that survived, they only hoped their king would return with them and so sustain the lands they used to call home and create a small paradise once again for themselves and those they loved.

Beside Prince John was his wise and often taken-for-granted advisor, Sir Hiss – not his actual name of course, but his natural born lisp that often affected his speech had granted him the title. The superficial prince did nothing to correct it. Since he relished as well as mocked his only true friend – if he could be called that – the name suited him in the latter case. Trained guards were at Prince John's disposal, as well as the particularly greedy Sheriff of Collin Woods, Clifford Devoe.

Amongst the townspeople was the West family, but with the father, Joseph, and the son, Wallace, off to fight in the Crusades, and the mother, Francine, having passed many years ago, the daughter, Maid Iris, was ordered by Prince John to live under the care of Sheriff DeVoe and his wife, Marlize. Iris was rarely seen after that, except for at festivals hosted by Prince John. And by one other, who she risked everything to see night after night by moonlight, hidden amongst the trees lining Silver Lake.

Barry Allen.

Bartholomew was his given name, but hardly rolling off the tongue, his best friend, Cisco – who'd also shortened his name – decided on a nickname for the young Allen. To those around him, it had stuck.

Barry was the only child of Henry and Nora Allen. The former was the only doctor in the town. He had taken a young pupil under his wing, a girl – which was most unheard of - Caitlin Snow. He'd tried to lure his son into the teachings of medicine. There were few things greater than the ability to heal, he would say. But young Barry would have none of it. And being a friend of Caitlin himself, Barry encouraged the union. There should be at least two doctors in one town, should one fall ill, heaven forbid. But one wasn't going to be him. Most of the time when he wasn't home, he traveled into town to offer his skills – that of repairing homes and entertaining children – as proof of his servitude. His mother, Nora, who was a seamstress to nearly everyone, found him to be a great addition to the work force. And since she needed to do little to win over her husband, most of the time he relented.

But Barry didn't spend all his time tending to the needs of the townsfolk. His favorite pastimes were narrowed down to three: fishing with Cisco, practicing archery with his handmade bow and arrows, and visiting Maid Iris by moonlight.

One late afternoon in June, finished with his tasks for today, Barry idly leaned against a tree and carved himself some new arrows, preparing to get some practice in. _For the Crusades_ he would tell his father if the subject ever arose. But it hadn't yet. Only his friends knew of his hobby, and it was kept amongst them. It was no secret Barry didn't want to go to war.

"Hey!"

The disgruntled voice pulled Barry out of his reverie, and he saw an unamused Cisco standing inches beneath where his arrow had landed, a hole piercing his new hat as it stayed pinned against the tree behind him.

Barry had the decency to blush.

"Sorry, Cisco."

Cisco carefully pulled the arrow and hat free, placing the latter back on his head.

"Watch it. My mother made that."

Cisco's mother was not the greatest seamstress – as was evidenced by the seams falling apart of the hats she made for her son, even without arrows being shot through them. The Ramons looked down on the Allens for Henry's audacity to train a young girl in medicine, to educate a peasant girl whose duty it was to marry and raise children, not attempt to heal people. Not to mention because Barry's parents were not stricter with him. As a result, they forbade their son from being friends with Barry – an order he ignored fervently.

"My mother could make you a new one," Barry offered, not for the first time, as he turned his full attention to his friend.

Cisco snorted. "My mother would know. She knows she can't sew. It has never been her talent. And if she saw your mother's neat seams, she'd know where I had been."

Barry nodded. He knew. He just couldn't help but offer.

"Did you see Caitlin today?" Cisco asked casually, leaning against the tree beside Barry.

Barry shook his head. "I left early this morning. Ralph was off with Sue again, so he wasn't around to watch his younger brothers and sisters. I offered my services."

Cisco's lips turned up in a smirk. "Of course you did."

"It is my contribution," Barry said, picking up another arrow and shaving down the sides so it would fly more smoothly.

"You don't sound happy about it."

He shrugged.

"Maybe you're just jealous Ralph can spend time with Sue in broad daylight while you have to sneak around with Iris by moonlight."

Barry froze, his eyes wide as he turned to look at his friend.

"What? You thought I didn't know?"

Barry turned his body fully.

"I'm your best friend," Cisco said, offended.

"You're not- You didn't- Does anyone else-"

He rolled his eyes. " _Of course_ no one else knows. At least not because of me. I won't tell a soul." He paused. "At least not until you do."

Barry snorted and returned to his arrows.

"I'll never be able to do that," he muttered under his breath.

"You never know," Cisco said, softening.

Barry picked up his bow and arrow and aimed for a farther tree.

"As long as King Richard is fighting in the Crusades and Iris is cooped up with that awful Sheriff DeVoe, there's no way we can be together openly. She'll probably marry that awful knight Julian," Barry said, scowling.

"I thought he's planning to leave for the Crusades," Cisco said, his brows fusing together.

"Not before obtaining a marriage proposal, I bet."

"And why would the Sheriff say yes to him? He gains too much by keeping Iris locked up. He feeds off her inheritance."

Barry lowered his bow. "Because Julian is a knight, and his father is in Prince John's royal guard. He probably thinks Julian won't return from the Crusades and he won't have to worry about it."

"But if he does return…"

"He'll have to own up to the promise. And Maid Iris will have no choice in the matter."

Cisco shoulders slumped, and then he gathered himself together, determined to let them not both be burdened down by this possibility.

"It might not happen," he offered. "Julian's thirst for war might overcome his desire for Iris."

Barry looked at him. "It does."

Cisco's brows furrowed again.

"Julian wants her because I have her. It's his petty jealousy for everything I have that is greater than his thirst for war. All the medals and glory in the world would mean nothing to him if they didn't also crush me into the ground in the process."

He shot off another arrow, this one recklessly into the air at a distance. Someone could trace it, find him, discover his hobby and somehow use it against him. But he didn't care. Few things stifled his hatred for Julian Albert, son of the guard, knight in training, who gloated about all that he would receive on his return from the Crusades. More than once Barry had wanted to retort bitterly, ' _If_ you return.' But he'd held his breath. He wouldn't sink to his level.

"And what do you have that he doesn't?" Cisco asked, though he knew at least some of what his answer would be.

"Both parents, friends, the right to choose what I want to do, and a father who is willing to bend the rules for the sake of the people."

"And the love of Iris," Cisco added, which made Barry's anger finally fizzle out.

"Yes. And that."

…

In the quiet cottage just off the edge of town, Nora Allen sat in her rocking chair and picking up a new color of yarn to add to her nearest quilt. She hummed quietly to herself, a melody to harmonize with the blue birds chirping outside the window. The sun shone through it, warming her face, and with the scent of biscuits wafting out of the oven, she knew dinner would soon be at hand. The chicken was ready, and the corn. With the prepared food would come her husband, her son, and the young girl Henry had taken under his wing, Caitlin Snow.

Caitlin was a quiet one. With long brown locks and the same purple cotton dress she wore day after day, only changing the ribbons in her hair on occasion, Nora had taken to mothering her. She'd never had a daughter, and there was much about Caitlin that appealed to her. From her determination to chase after her dreams to her polite refusal of anything that might inconvenience anyone, Nora welcomed having her in their home and at their table. A few times she had studied her son's interactions with her to see if there was any spark. She certainly wouldn't mind having Caitlin officially part of their family.

But Caitlin, it seemed, was in love with a slightly older boy, Ronnie Raymond, who had gone off to fight in the Crusades. And Nora's boy, Barry, she had begun to suspect, still fancied Maid Iris.

It was a star-crossed romance she'd hoped her son could avoid. Not because she held anything against Iris or her family, but because it would be nearly impossible for them to find happiness together in a practical sense with Iris being elevated in her father's and brother's absence. In addition, she knew the feelings had not been one-sided before Joseph and Wallace had left for Crusades. That made the young romance even more devastating.

But Iris lived with Sheriff DeVoe now, who was snide and arrogant and in line with that terrible Prince John and his constant raising of taxes. She hoped Marlize DeVoe, who disapproved of her husband's tactics despite her undying loyalty to him, had taken Iris under her wing and protected her. Heaven only knows what kind of atmosphere existed in that house if she hadn't.

With Prince John's greed engulfing the town, Nora worried that soon Henry would allow appointments without pay. He tried to be firm and decisive on the outside, but on the inside his love for her, his son, and the townspeople had turned him to mush. After all, once Barry had made it clear he would not be following in his footsteps, Henry had sought out a pupil and had no qualms whatsoever about taking on Caitlin Snow.

The heavy wooden door creaking open interrupted her thoughts, and the sound of her husband's warm voice lifted her spirits.

"Something smells good," Henry said, walking through the door. "You smell that, Caitlin?" The young girl nodded beside him. "It smells wonderful."

Nora smiled to herself, set aside her tools and yarn and walked into the entryway adjoining the kitchen.

"You're home," she said, to which her husband crossed the distance between them and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Is it biscuits?"

She nodded. "Yes. And chicken and potatoes."

Caitlin's eyes lit up. "You have potatoes?"

"Yes. And I'm going to mash them. Would you like to help?"

Caitlin nearly bounced up on her toes. It never ceased to amazing Nora how this girl could go from being shy to eager and excited when new opportunities presented themselves. She wondered what that meant about her home life but decided not to think on it.

"I'll take that as a yes," she chuckled. "Come on." She nodded her head towards the hot pot over the fire and grabbed some pot warmers so as not to burn herself. "Grab a bowl from the bottom shelf. We'll put them in there first."

Caitlin did as she was told and used the large spoon to transfer the vegetable. Nora looked over her shoulder at her husband as she did so.

"Have you seen Barry today?"

"Not this morning," he said with a sigh. "But the Dibnys informed me he spent all morning with their rambunctious children, so he must've done some good today."

"Henry." Her voice lowered, and he reined himself in.

"I'm sorry. I know it's a good thing what he's doing. It's better than just lying around this place all day. I'm glad he's getting work in and that he'll help out with the harvest in the fall."

"Oh!" Caitlin interjected, spying the individual in question walking passed the distant window. "I think I see him."

Moments later, the door opened and Barry walked in, a basket of freshly pulled carrots in his arms.

"Carrots," Caitlin said, awe-struck by yet another delicious food being added to the menu.

"What a brilliant idea, Barry. Thank you for thinking of it," his mother said.

He forced a smile that matched his father's until Henry felt the glare his wife was delivering to the back of his head.

"I thought it might…add something," Barry added lamely, avoiding his father's gaze.

"I talked to the Dibnys earlier today," Henry said, pushing bitter feelings behind him for the sake of the meal and the company. "It sounds like you were very helpful to them this morning."

Barry looked at him, then glanced at his mother and Caitlin and knew he had to do something to release the tension.

"Well, someone had to be, what with Ralph running off with Sue just as his brothers and sisters were waking up."

Henry softened, a proud smile gracing his features.

"I'm glad you stepped up, son." He gripped his shoulder. "It's good to know what's important in life and not go running after a lass before you've found your place."

He glanced over at Caitlin.

"Nothing against you, of course, Caitlin."

She grinned sardonically.

"Of course not. I'm special."

Barry shook his head at the comment, but it had the whole family laughing, and so the tension was broken.

…

Night descended over Collin Woods about an hour after dinner. Caitlin had returned home, promising to meet Henry at his clinic the next day as early as she could. He planned to bring food with him and Nora insisted she come home with Henry for dinner again. Caitlin was reluctant to agree to that, so she just smiled as a goodbye and waved her hand on the way out. Barry watched her from the front window and thought about the impact she made on their home. He was glad to have her in his life, and glad even more so that she'd provided an escape for him from his father's profession. But he worried some about her home life. Whenever he saw her about in town, there was no light in her eyes. She looked sullen, almost like a young child. And he saw the tight grip her mother always had on her even though she was three years into adulthood at age fifteen. It just made him more aware of the destruction Prince John had brought upon their little town.

Barry lay in bed until he could hear his parents' snores drifting down the hall. Deeming it safe to slip out, he pushed open his window and carefully climbed over the ledge to the other side. He closed it after he'd landed in the grass, keeping it open a crack so he wouldn't have difficulty going in, and then slinked away from his home, taking off as fast as one of his arrows as soon as he'd reached the cluster of trees thickening like a swarm of flies on the way to Central Pond.

He got to the edge of the water, looked up and saw some hazy clouds crossing over the moon. He worried for a moment that she wouldn't come. They had always said that if it was a cloudy night, maybe it was a sign they shouldn't meet up, that there was somehow a better likelihood of them being caught, even if logically that didn't make sense.

But he didn't have to worry long. Because mere moments later, a tap came on his shoulder, and he nearly fell into the water because of it.

"Barry!" she quietly shrieked, pulling him back by the fabric of his shirt, and then dissolving into a fit of giggles when she did. Putting a hand over her mouth, she tried to compose herself. "I'm sorry."

He was flushed, breathing heavily for a few moments, but then a silly grin stretched across his face.

"No apology needed," he said, then took her hand and led her away from the water into the woods. "I was afraid you wouldn't come."

"So was I," she said. "The clouds were so much thicker from my bedroom window." She came to a stop and held both of her hands in his, swinging a little on the balls of her feet. "But I thought I'd try. It's been so long since I've seen you."

In truth it had been two days, and the only reason they hadn't met up was because of storms, rain that poured hard and for hours. But it still felt like an eternity. Every moment apart felt like a lifetime.

"I know," he said, intertwining their fingers together. "It's been forever."

He couldn't wait any longer. He pulled on her hands with his own, instantly bringing her closer, and met her lips with a sudden kiss. She melted into it, and so did he. His arms moved to settle on her waist as hers wrapped around his neck. And for a while they stood there in the filtered moonlight, just ignoring the world around them.

"Oh, Barry," she murmured, eventually pulling back enough to lay her head on his chest. He swayed them gently. "I wish it could be like this forever."

He rested his cheek on the top of her head and shut his eyes, listening to the sway of her long dress in the night breeze.

"So do I."

"I dream about us, you know."

He smiled to himself. "You do?"

"Well, don't you?" She lifted her head to look up at him.

"Of course, Iris. I dream about you even when I'm not sleeping. I almost shot Cisco with an arrow today because I was so distracted dreaming of you."

Her eyes sparkled. "You wouldn't have hit him."

"I don't know…I was pretty distracted."

"You never miss," she said. "Not even when you're distracted."

"I might've made an exception for Julian," he joked lightly.

She smirked. "I might've let you."

He didn't know if her not liking Julian any more than he did made their situation even more tragic, but he decided he liked it. Better the knight not be his competition when it came to Iris' heart. In any other way, he could deal, even if he didn't want to, but if he was unsure about where her heart lie, he was sure he would die.

"Come on," he said, stepping back enough to just hold her hand. "I want to show you something."

Iris bit her bottom lip and ran with him through the woods until they came to a large tree. She stopped before he did and looked up at the spectacle before them.

"It's amazing," she said, awestruck.

"It's old," he responded. "And probably shouldn't be climbed on." He bent down to pick something off the grass just around the old oak. "But it's unlike any other tree in the whole forest, and I think we should make it our own."

He came back to her and handed her a rock, sharp and narrow at the end. She looked at it strangely and met his eyes with a quizzical expression.

"What are you thinking, Barry?"

He grinned and pulled her to the large, oak tree. Then she watched as he used his own rock to painstakingly carve his initials into the wood. He made a small cross beneath it and stepped back. He glanced at her when she didn't move.

"Your turn," he said.

Excitedly, though she tried to contain herself, Iris stepped forward and carved her own initials in. Then, without any prodding, she drew a large heart around their letters and stepped back, looking at their masterpiece proudly.

"I love you, Iris," he said, softly, and she turned to find him staring at her, so much love in his eyes. She didn't doubt his declaration for a second.

"I love you, too, Barry," she returned, taking both his hands in hers as they'd been before.

"I don't know how long we can be like this," he admitted. "But I'm going to treasure every moment." He brought their clasped hands to his heart and held them there. "You're my home, Iris. And that's one thing that will never change."

Her heart aflutter, and all words fallen away from her memory, she smiled softly in response. Then she tilted her face up, closed her eyes, and waited for him to kiss her.

Chapter 1 -


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Written for Day 21 of my _25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction_ event.

 ***** Many thanks to **sendtherain** for beta'ing.

 ***** I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

 **Chapter 2 -**

Slowing his horse's gallop to a trot, Julian brought the animal to a stop in front of its stall in the stables and swung one leg over the side to drop down onto the ground, while his stable hand held his grand horse steady.

"Thank you, Felix."

The boy nodded and guided the horse into its stall.

Julian moved almost immediately after that, heading straight into his residence. His tutor would be in the library, no doubt ready to teach him more Latin. He abhorred Latin. It had no purpose, given few people could read and only the friar and other clergymen could understand and speak it in turn. Julian had no interest in spending long hours inside the house of God, dedicating his life to blind servitude, sacrifice and celibacy. While his knighthood had been forced upon him by his father, one of the highest-ranking guards of the King, he enjoyed the respect it granted him. And training in the arts of jousting, archery and sword fighting certainly beat any other job he could've been pushed into.

Women fawned over him. Men looked to him as a promise for the future. He would go to the Crusades soon, and when he returned, he would obtain everything he wished for. Separation from his father, a marriage to the woman Barry Allen loved, and all the gold and jewels he desired.

Maid Iris was a pretty little thing. Her dark hair and skin were always accentuated by her light-colored dresses, pinks and purples and yellows, all made from satin ever since she'd become Sheriff DeVoe's charge. Julian went to visit her often, trying to make a good impression. She appeared to be uninterested. But he'd impressed Sheriff DeVoe with his knighthood and manners and shared knowledge of Latin – ironically. Julian knew before he left Collin Woods for the battlefield, he could convince the man to sign a contract in Iris' place, so they would be wed immediately on his return.

Julian wasn't blind to Iris' lack of affection towards him. He knew she'd been closed-minded from the start, unwilling to even consider him an option, because her heart still lay with the foolish boy who'd swept her off her feet before her father and brother had abandoned her. As pretty as she was, and as admirably stubborn, Julian had no problem admitting that he wanted her for himself solely so Barry Allen couldn't have her.

The odds were already against Barry, with the scandal of his father taking on a peasant girl as his pupil in the practice of medicine. Her only place should be that of cooking and cleaning before marrying another peasant at her own level. The fact that another knight, Sir Ronald, had promised himself to her baffled Julian. But he supposed it was not his place. He was even more uninterested in Caitlin Snow than Maid Iris on her own merit. All he cared about was hurting Barry Allen, who had more to live for than he could have dreamed. And he deserved none of it. He took all of it for granted.

Barry not only was able to get by without a real job that would add to the income of his household, but he spent most afternoons shooting off arrows in the middle of the forest. _Reckless_ , if you asked Julian. Especially since he knew for a fact the arrogant boy had no intention of ever fighting in the great war of their time, alongside their King, who he claimed to miss dearly given that the idiotic Prince John was in his place.

Henry Allen might've preferred his son practice medicine, but he did not disown him when he refused to do so. If Julian had refused knighthood, his father would have done exactly that. Thrown him to the streets, because how dare he not want something that came with so much honor, so much nobility, that promised him victory in his life and all that he desired. Despite Julian warming to the idea, he would always be bitter and hold resentment against his father for the pressure he'd put him under. When Julian had announced he was pursuing Iris, his father had just barely approved, and only because her station had been lifted after Joseph and Wallace West's departure. He supposed he should be grateful for that. But he wasn't. It was only another instance in which Sir David Albert reigned supreme.

His father had never mourned his wife or his daughter's passing. He beat Julian when he caught him in tears over their deaths. Women were not meant for one to grow attached to, he would say. They were meant for cooking and cleaning and bearing children. In his wife's absence, Sir David Albert had hired a maid, Louise. Only five at the time, Julian had spent the next eight years being raised by her until he was forced into knighthood by his father. He'd thought it would bring them closer, but it only made him all too aware of what a villain his father could be. It benefitted him that he and Sheriff DeVoe were of the same nature, but Julian swore he would never be like him. He would obtain Iris for himself, but he would never lay a harmful finger on her – something that could not be said of his father's actions towards his mother.

If Iris did not wish to clean and cook and sew, Julian would find a maid who would do those things. And he would make her fall in love with him so that she would never want to leave, never cry in the dark when she thought he was unaware. He would overcome his father in that way and also leave Barry Allen a destroyed mess without the woman he loved. Would he come to hate his father? Would he turn on his mother for never trying to stop Henry Allen from tutoring a peasant girl? Whatever happened, the key would be in seducing Maid Iris.

That was the most difficult task. If he couldn't do it before they were wed, he would be sure to do it afterwards. Either by turning her against Barry or by making him disappear. The idea of killing the young Allen, or hiring someone to do it, appealed to him for only a moment before he realized that would be worse than what his father had done. He would not become worse. He would be better.

But Barry still needed to be poison in Iris' eyes or he needed to leave. Julian just didn't know how to go about choosing.

"You're lost in thought," his tutor said as he walked into the large, quiet room.

Julian came to a halt and nodded once.

"I am ready for my lesson," he said.

His tutor gestured to a comfortable chair in front of him, beside which sat a table and piles of books for him to learn from.

"Something troubles you," his tutor said, looking at him contemplatively.

"When does it not?" Julian asked rhetorically on a sigh, selecting a book and flipping through it to find where they'd last left off.

"Let's talk about it."

Julian paused and looked up at the inquisitive, wise older man and wondered how best to get out of this particular conversation.

"I won't tell your father," he said, setting aside his own book. "Your welfare is my top priority."

Reluctantly, Julian closed his.

"That's not what we pay you for."

"Consider it charity then."

"I don't need your charity," he spat, harsher than he'd meant to.

"But do you need someone to listen? To really hear you, Sir Julian?"

His lips thinned.

"Is it Bartholomew Allen?" he questioned. "Do you want what he has?"

"I am not envious of him if that is what you are asking. I have almost everything I desire, and soon I will have the final piece."

"The affections of Maid Iris."

"Her promise to marry."

"She is willing?" his tutor asked, surprised.

Julian's brows narrowed. "In time."

His tutor analyzed him most uncomfortably, until Julian nearly stood to his feet and walked out of there.

"You want something else." His eyes widened. "To destroy young Bartholomew and all he has." He paused. "To kill?"

Julian was unnerved by how his tutor could appear to know so much about what he was thinking. There had been rumors of him being a wizard in another land long before he arrived in Collin Woods. Julian had not believed it. But at times like this he wondered.

"You presume too much. You should keep to your studies, and to teaching me mine."

"Perhaps."

Julian shook his head and opened his book again.

"Let us get on with the lesson. I will forget this talk, and you should too."

"As you wish."

When the two had found their place in the accurate book, Julian met his tutor's eyes to wait for his direction.

"Tell me what is on your mind, my pupil."

Julian licked his lips, hardly daring to ask. Once it was out, it was out. If his tutor had truly once been a wizard, it was possible he could grant his request.

"Something…other than murder, something…equally devastating."

"Betrayal, you think," his tutor said, then thought again when Julian looked to interrupt him. "The appearance of betrayal."

"A farce."

"Within the Allen family. A façade that destroys."

"Mmm." Julian nodded. "Yes."

His tutor's eyes locked on his, Julian felt for the first time not unnerved, but powerful.

 _Will you do it?_

"Twelve lines down at the beginning," he directed, and Julian lowered his eyes to the book.

He began to read the Latin words, aware all the time of his tutor's eyes on him. An agreement had been made. He felt it in every fiber of his bones. Something dangerous was about to happen, and he was responsible for what would unravel, all by the workings of his presumably loyal yet mysterious tutor, Eobard Thawne.

…

Snuggled close to her love, his jacket spread over her shoulders to keep her warm, Iris relished the feeling of contentment that came with being in the presence of and so near to her darling Barry Allen. He was everything to her. He was security and love and happiness and everything she could have ever dreamed. Growing up, she resented the fact that women were forced into the servitude of their husbands, but as she fell deeper in love with Barry Allen, she knew she wouldn't mind that one bit. She would make him new jackets and hats. She would cook him tasty soup and roast a nice, hot chicken. She would kiss his worries away and bear him many children. She would do everything and anything expected of her as a woman without complaint if it could be solely directed at her love, Barry Allen.

What's more she knew if she did decide to toe outside the line and do something for herself, that her Barry would let her. Even more so, he would encourage it. The apple didn't fall far from the tree, and both his parents were warm and welcoming and loyal to any cause they took up. After all, Henry Allen had taken on a peasant girl as his pupil. Not to spite his son, but because he saw a yearning in Caitlin Snow to learn the knowledge he had to give. He did not see what society bestowed on her but what she wanted for herself. Barry was every bit like his father, though he undoubtedly had a soft spot for his mother. Even if they were the poorest of the poor, Iris would want for nothing as long as she lived with Barry by her side.

But she knew the possibility of their happily ever after was a far and distant dream. She was kept under lock and key in the DeVoe household. Clifford was a resentful, greedy, arrogant man she detested. He did not beat her, nor his wife that Iris was aware of, but he spoke harshly and had an assuming air about him. In fact the only visitor that he allowed into the house as long as she'd been there was Sir Julian Albert.

Julian's disdain of Barry and vice versa was more than enough of a reason for Iris to dislike him, but his eagerness to impress her in a clear effort to win her affections disgusted her. He knew she loved Barry, and maybe that was why he had developed a sudden desire to see her. She knew it could only possibly be to win her hand and steal her away from Barry. But she would not be stolen away so easily, or at all. Even if she and Barry could never be together, her heart would never belong to another. Especially since Julian appeared to get on so well with Sheriff DeVoe. Never in her life would she consent to marrying him. He would have to take her by force, and she would not go quietly.

But she preferred to push those awful circumstances to the wayside when she was with Barry. When she was with him it was only them. She could pretend they were really together for everyone to see, that they weren't worrying about who might catch them, that everyone was happy for their union and they were soon to be married.

But as light started to trickle across the sky in shades of purple, pink, red, and orange, Iris was forced back into the reality they lived in. And that reality was that they'd stayed out far too long. And if they were caught, the results would be devastating.

"Barry!" she whispered in a gasp, his jacket falling off of her as she sat up abruptly. "Barry! Wake up!" She shook him fiercely and finally his eyes opened.

"What…What's going on, Iris?" He rubbed his eyes. "Why are you so-"

"It's dawn!" she said, stumbling to her feet. "It's not night anymore. It's daybreak. If I don't get back before the DeVoes wake up, I may never be able to see you again!"

The gravity of the situation made Barry spring up and take her hand. They ran through the forest, near the sounds of the birds so their running feet could be stifled by other morning noises. When they reached the fortress Iris was meant to be locked up in, Barry started to lift her up so she could find her footing and climb over the other side.

"Barry, wait." She gripped his arms.

"Iris, we don't have time. I can't- I'm not going to be the reason I never see you again."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"I don't want to be the reason either," she said, clutching his shirt tighter.

"Then don't be," he whispered, cupping her face to reassure her. "Climb over that wall, go to your bed, and sleep a few hours more. Pretend you've been there the whole night, as you always do, and tomorrow night we will meet at the lake again."

"Even if it's cloudy?" she asked on bated breath.

"Even if the earth is shaking and the heavens pour forth water from a thousand seas and everyone is watching, I will meet you at our place, and I will wait as long as it takes for you to come to me."

"Oh, Barry."

He kissed her. There in the wakening day, he kissed her hard, pulling her flush up against him, willing this to not be the last moment they shared. When they broke apart, he locked his eyes on hers, begging her to listen to him and follow through with what he asked.

"Go," he said.

Iris swallowed and nodded, letting him help her up the stone wall. When her legs swung over to the other side, she looked down at him and he smiled up at her – a little one, to congratulate her on her little victory.

'I love you' on the tip of her tongue, she decided against it, choosing to believe they would see each other again. She used the vines and protruding stones to climb her way down until her feet touched the grass again. Then she turned around, quietly crossed the yard until she was inside. But when she opened the door to her room, she was stopped dead in her tracks. For there in the chair beside her window sat Marlize DeVoe.

"Good morning, Iris," she said.

Iris didn't move a muscle.

"I thought we should talk," she continued, gesturing to a wooden chair across from hers.

"And if I don't want to?" she said, indignant in a way she couldn't be with Clifford.

Marlize smiled sardonically at her young charge.

"I really think you do."

…

Barry's heart was racing the whole way back to his house. The sound was so loud in his ears that he couldn't even hear his own feet on the ground, which he no longer tried to conceal from any early morning risers.

They'd never gotten that close to being caught. Never.

They'd always been so careful. Meet up at the lake, spend some time getting lost in each other eyes and telling each other how in love they were, and then get back to their homes before anyone suspected a thing.

But this time, he couldn't recall whose decision it was, but they had ended up lying on the grass in the warm summer air, and before either of them knew it, they had fallen asleep. It was probably the best sleep Barry had in a while if he was being honest. Even the sun stretching across the sky wouldn't have been enough to wake him up with Iris cuddled in his arms.

So, in truth, they'd been lucky that Iris was a little more likely to startle herself awake when danger was imminent.

And it had been imminent. Barry just hoped it was a close call only and not the last time he'd see her. He didn't want something terrible to happen to her in that house if she'd been caught. He never asked her about her experience there, not in the six months she'd been living there, but she didn't volunteer information either, so he figured it either wasn't that bad or it was bad enough that she didn't want to talk about it.

He'd let it pass from his mind without a second thought before, but now he worried for her. He'd be going out of his mind with worry until nightfall when they would meet up again. If she met him at their spot, he could ask her what had happened, and hopefully she could soothe his worries. But if she didn't…

Well, he didn't want to think about that. Not now. Maybe he'd pester Cisco later in the day. He'd reassure him, right? It wasn't as if he could go to anyone else. Cisco was the only one who knew about his late-night meetings with Iris, and he preferred it to stay that way.

Finally approaching his home and grateful to see his bedroom window still cracked open, he moved toward it, hoping to get inside unnoticed and a few more hours of sleep before he went in town to distract himself with repairs and babysitting.

The window squeaked a little, but his slim frame allowed him to slip inside and shut the window without alerting his parents who he assumed were still asleep in their bed. Kicking his shoes off quietly, he walked over to his bed and pulled back the covers, intending to will himself to sleep despite the sound of birds and the adrenaline from his taking Iris back to her residence energizing his mind.

But after he slipped into his bed and pulled the covers over him, yanking the drapes shut so he'd be able to shut out some of the light from outdoors, Barry realized he couldn't hear the gentle snoring typical of his parents when they slept. Instead he heard murmuring from a nearby conversation. He held his breath, his first thought being if his parents knew too. What a thing it would be for both him and Iris to get caught because they'd foolishly fallen asleep in each other's arms. He certainly wouldn't be in physical danger from his parents. They'd likely just be worried for him and Iris. Still, it was something he'd been hoping to avoid.

Instead, when he went to his bedroom door and opened it a crack, Barry saw his parents in the living room talking. They were clearly tense, and he couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but he leaned out a little into the hall – lucky to still be in the shadows – and focused his listening on the whispers coming from the distant room.

"Henry, are you sure?" Nora asked, wrapping a shawl around herself as she moved to shut the open front window.

"Yes," he said, then nodded. "I know why you're hesitant, why you worry. But I think we have enough saved up to keep us going."

"For a while maybe, but-"

"These people need our care," he persisted when she turned back to him. "And they can't afford it. Those damn taxes are raised higher and higher every day." One of his hands curled into a fist. "And that good-for-nothing sheriff of ours collects twice a week now."

"I know," Nora said on a soft sigh, placing her hand on her husband's and slowly uncurling the tight fist, making him relax.

"Just a couple weeks," he said, leaning his forehead against his wife's. "With that much money still in their pocket, I can go back to charging a little so we can stay afloat."

Nora swallowed hard. "And if not? What if the sheriff raises the taxes so the money they would've paid you still ends up in his pocket?"

Henry sighed. "Then Barry will have to get a job." Nora opened her mouth to object, but he continued. "A _real_ job, Nora. Not…babysitting and nailing some broken panels back on."

"Henry." She frowned, her brows narrowed in her son's defense. "He does more than that, and you know it."

"It doesn't matter what he does!" Henry's voice rose, and Nora placed her fingers across his lips, making a deliberate nod towards the hall.

"The boy is still asleep," she said in a hushed whisper.

Barry was grateful his mother hadn't actually looked down the hall and therefore hadn't noticed him. Or if she had, she hadn't let on, much to his deep gratitude.

"He needs to get paid, Nora. Helping out the townspeople is all well and good, but he's taking for granted the fact that I can support us and isn't pulling his weight. He needs an income to contribute to the household. He doesn't have one. There's no back-up plan until he does. I won't turn my patients away."

Nora nodded, the end of the conversation in sight.

"Perhaps it's good he didn't want to go into medicine then," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "If you were both in the clinic giving free services, there'd be no back-up plan at all."

Henry sighed.

"He just needs your approval," she said softly, rubbing his back. "Tell him you love him and that you're proud of him, and he'll find a job that pays a wage."

Henry groaned. "He's too good, Nora." He lifted his head to press a kiss to her lips. "Just like you."

She smiled slowly. "You don't think he'll take a fair wage?"

"I think he has a heart of gold that loves to make people happy. And what makes people happier than free labor?"

Nora chuckled and leaned her head on her husband's shoulder.

"Just have a talk with him, my love. He may be more willing than you think."

Barry's mind spinning, he stepped back into his room and shut the door. He should've known this might happen, what with the raising of taxes and his father's gentle heart, his unwillingness to turn people away who truly needed him. In a way he was doing the same thing with the townsfolk who needed assistance with their daily tasks. But his father was right in that they both couldn't be servicing people for free. A doctor's income was higher than most, but what they'd saved up wouldn't sustain them for long if the taxes kept rising.

Barry would have to find a job – a _real_ one – as much as he despised the idea. And he knew people wouldn't be a fan of him asking for a wage when he'd gone around offering his services for free. But maybe they would understand. Everyone except the corrupt sheriff and prince, as well as the Ramons, appeared to have a decent opinion of him. Perhaps someone could offer him work with pay.

At any rate, it would be best to go around asking before his father broached the subject with him. Things would start harmonizing a lot quicker between the two of them if he was one step ahead of his worried father.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Written for Day 22 of my _25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction_ event.

 ***** Many thanks to **sendtherain** for beta'ing.

 ***** I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

 **Chapter 3 -**

The resounding of hammer against iron echoed in Barry Allen's ears as he focused whole-heartedly on the task at hand, blocking out any and all other thoughts.

It had been a fortnight since he'd overheard his parents discussing future arrangements for their little household. After an hour more of restless sleep, Barry woke to find his father gone and his mother humming quietly in the kitchen as she cleaned. Her smile was bright and cheerful when he came into the kitchen and she set before him his early morning meal.

"Your father went down to the clinic early. He wanted to set a few things up before Caitlin arrived. He's going to be doing a few things differently for awhi-"

"I know he won't be charging people, Mother."

That took Nora by surprise.

"I heard you two talking this morning," he said on a shrug, moving his wooden spoon around in his porridge in slow circles.

"You were up early," she observed. Barry only nodded. "Earlier than usual."

He set his spoon down.

"I'm going to find a job today." Nora's eyes widened. "A paying job."

Nora was thunderstruck, unable to find her voice.

"I'm sure your…father will be pleased," she said eventually.

Barry stood to his feet. "I'll go now."

Nora frowned. "But, your- your porridge."

Barry snagged an apple off the table and wiped it against his shirt.

"This'll do."

He forced a smile and headed out the door, leaving his mother in a very worried state.

Because his usual first stop for the last several months had been the Dibny house, he went there before pursuing work in town. Their home was the closest to his, so it wasn't too much of a delay to his task for that day.

"Barry!" Mrs. Dibny exclaimed, opening the door for him immediately. "Come in, come in."

Barry smiled politely and came inside.

"Hello, Mrs. Dibny." He glanced around the seemingly empty house. "Are the children still asleep?"

"Even Mr. Dibny is still asleep," she confided. "And Ralph too, if you can believe it."

It surprised him a little, but not enough to marvel at it.

"I'm earlier than usual."

"Can I get you something to eat?" she inquired, heading into the kitchen.

"No thank you, Mrs. Dibny. I just came by to see if you needed anything before heading out."

"Oh?" She frowned, turning to look at him just as she approached her pot of boiling water. "Are you going somewhere?"

"To get a job," he said, sinking his hands into his pockets.

"Is your family in trouble?" she asked, worriedly.

She knew of Barry's refusal to fall in line with the rest of and had no trouble with it because she enjoyed his company and his help with the children and repair work. Mr. Dibny's back wasn't quite what it used to be, and it was a relief having someone younger and stronger and with more energy to get things done. Plus, the children adored him, and it was nice to not have to worry about payment.

"No, no, nothing like that," he said, waving it off. "It's just time for me to get one. After all, I will need one if I ever want to purchase my own lands and build a home on it."

"Well, that is true," she allowed. "I shall miss having you around, though. You're so handy." She chuckled lightly, waving the towel in her hand in his direction.

He nodded. "I like helping out. I'll miss the kids."

"And they'll miss you," she assured. "Please don't hesitate to come for dinner every once in a while. Maybe you'll actually get to see Ralph!"

A slew of sarcastic words flew through his mind, but he knew better than to say them aloud. He would not disrespect his rascal of a friend to his mother.

"Maybe."

Mrs. Dibny tilted her head to the side, watching him.

"Are you sure nothing's the matter, dear?"

He met her eyes and forced a smile. "Yes, I'm sure." He paused. "Will you tell the others in town if you see them? That I won't be able to step in quite as often as I have been?"

"Of course. Do you know where you will go?"

He shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it, honestly." He tried to think about it now. "Do you know anyone who is looking for help? And is willing to pay for it?"

"Hmm." She propped her elbow on her folded arm and contemplated. "You could try the Smithy," she suggested.

His mind searched for a face and a name. Then it clicked.

"Mr. Raymond?"

"Yes, yes," she said, her excitement growing. "He's been so lonely after his wife died and his son left for the Crusades. I'm sure you'd be a great comfort to him, and he'd be willing to pay you. He adores Caitlin, and so does your family, so I'm sure he wouldn't be put off by you asking for work. In fact, that is already one point in your favor."

His lips twitched. "Yes, that's true."

She turned around and grabbed a loaf of bread off the table.

"Here, take this."

"Oh, no, I could-"

"Do as I say, Barry Allen. Split it with your future employer. He cannot resist my cooking."

Barry eyed her carefully, and then broke out into a grin.

"You amaze me, Mrs. Dibny."

"I am a wonder," she confirmed, and they both laughed. "Now, go, before I find something for you to do and all your efforts are thwarted."

He nodded and backed out of the kitchen, heading for the door.

"Thank you, Mrs. Dibny."

She smiled. "Of course. Good luck to you, Barry."

She closed the door behind him, and he was off with a determined stride towards the Raymond household. On his way he passed Sheriff Devoe's house and looked into the room he presumed belonged to Iris. It looked dark. He hoped she was okay, and that they would see each other again. He had a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach that they wouldn't, and prayed he was wrong.

Mr. Raymond took to him straight away. Mrs. Dibny had been right that mentioning Caitlin and offering him some bread was a straight sell. But he also appeared to like Barry and trust he could do the job well once he was trained. By the end of the day, he was off to a great start with a gold coin in his pocket that he could take home to his father and mother. And he thought maybe there was something to this whole work-for-pay thing after all. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, even if he had to sacrifice some of the time he used for archery practice. As long as he could still see Iris at night, he could sacrifice just about anything.

But Iris didn't come that night He ran to their spot right after dinner, and he stayed the whole night, not sleeping a wink, until the sun stretched over the horizon and sparkled onto the lake. He sighed to himself, dread filling him. Not because he would likely be of little use today in the Smithy's shop, but because something had definitely happened to Iris, and he worried for her safety. Worst of all was he would never know what had become of her, why she hadn't met for their date when there hadn't been a cloud in the sky. Because that night wasn't the only night she had failed to show. She didn't come the night after or the night after that or any night since.

Barry still went every night. He just made sure to sleep as well and hope she would wake him once she arrived. But he was never woken up. Iris never came to him, and he knew he couldn't very well knock on Sheriff DeVoe's door to ask if she was all right. It wouldn't make sense unless she'd actually confessed where she'd been the last night she returned.

All he could do was hope she was all right and return to their spot every night in the hopes that all would be set right.

A fortnight felt like an eternity, though. He was losing more hope by the day. His spirit was waning. Even Cisco could not bring a smile to his face. He barely ate, and he slept no more than a few hours, wanting to be easy to wake should Iris meet him at their spot. His mother and father had probably begun to worry, but they said little, only exchanging glances between the other when he came home without saying a word, only depositing his coins in the jar his mother had dug up for that exact purpose.

He shut everything out, even the desire for fulfillment and happiness. All his energy went into his work until he could find a way to figure out what had happened to his love. As of yet, no grand idea had emerged.

…

As morning light filtered through her bedroom window, seeping into a puddle on the floor just beside her bedside table, Iris risked the creakiness of her bed and sat up enough to peek out onto the town's streets. She saw him as she has every morning, and her heart broke. He used to look up at her window every day. He used to search for her face in the dark window, and forlorn, continue on when he saw no trace of her. But she'd been there. Every day she'd been there. And she'd wanted to poke her head out so badly, to call out to him, to wave even, to assure him she was okay, because he must be going out of his _mind_ with worry.

She wondered if he'd stopped going to their spot after a full seven days had passed and there had been no sign of her. Maybe he'd stopped after just a couple days. Maybe he thought she no longer loved him, that sneaking around was too much trouble because they had no future. She couldn't bear the thought of either of those things. She wouldn't let herself believe that her beloved Barry Allen had given up on her, but the possibility that he might think she'd given up on _him_ was even worse.

She wished there was some way to get through to him, some ally between the two of them that she could rely on to deliver a message. She knew Cisco was a possibility, but there was no way to reach him either. And since Mrs. DeVoe had carried out her husband's order to not only keep Iris locked away inside the outside walls but now in her own bedroom, she couldn't even think to sneak away. The floorboards down the hall were too squeaky, and Mrs. DeVoe was out late watching her. Not to mention bars had been put over the windows and her door was locked, only to be opened when she was brought in food.

During the day, Mrs. DeVoe came and sat with her, urging her to quilt and to get her attitude in check. If she did that, maybe she'd let her roam throughout the house again. But only if she could prove herself, and only if she said yes to Sir Julian Albert's proposal when he propositioned her.

"Never," she said, spiteful when Marlize put that condition on the table.

She didn't ask how the woman could guess the proposal was inevitable. She'd had a feeling it was long ago.

"Do you want to stay in this room forever, wench?" Marlize barked, cutting Iris deep. "It is by my husband's will alone that you have been raised up, and by my will that you remain untouched in this household."

Iris stiffened. She couldn't allow herself to feel pity for the woman on this occasion. She was too busy fighting for her life.

"Sir Julian is a good man," Marlize continued. "He will be a good match for you, and on his return from the Crusades he will be elevated up even more, and you with him."

"I don't care about riches!" Iris cried. "I'd rather wear torn cotton drenched in mud than marry a man who does not love me."

"Love," Marlize scoffed. "Love comes with time, my dear. And sometimes it disappears entirely. Sometimes you cannot make a man love you no matter how hard you try. And you can't keep him from falling out of love with you, either."

Iris pursed her lips tightly.

"And don't think I don't know where you've been sneaking off to. I know it's happened more than once. I've had my suspicions from the beginning. This is just the only time you were caught." She stood to her feet then, as through with the conversation as Iris was. "And if you think your love, Barry Allen, will save you, you are gravely mistaken. If he tries to come, and if you encourage such action or find a way to seek him out yourself, I assure you Clifford has the power to destroy his family. And he will if it proves necessary."

Iris' heart sank at that. Was there no way out of this God forsaken situation?

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, unable to stop tears from filling her eyes.

Marlize hesitated, then pushed past whatever made her do so.

"Because I am loyal to my husband," she said. "One day you will understand."

And then the door shut behind her and Iris burst into tears. Many hours after she'd recovered, Mrs. DeVoe returned with a plate of food, a new dress, and the announcement that a tutor would be coming to see her, and after that a visit from Julian, and that she better be delighted to see the both of them.

Well, she hadn't been delighted to see either of them and had been locked away in her room for two days without food as punishment. So the next time they came she was a little less snippy, but she was also resigned, tired of the fight. The DeVoes must have seen it as an improvement though, because that day Iris got not only her regular meal but also dessert. She didn't eat the latter. She could only think of how she would have surprised Barry with it had they been able to meet up.

She so longed to see him again – really see him – to look into his eyes and see the love there. She dreamed of his lips on hers, soft and gentle and hungry. She missed being wrapped into in his arms and listening to him tell her he loved her over and over. Memories of them running through the forest, carving their initials on that big oak tree, and staring up at the moonlight seemed like a dream.

She clung to them though. It was her only light amidst the darkness.

…

Julian's paced back and forth in the library, his patience growing thin.

The veiled promise his tutor had made to deliver Maid Iris into his arms without worry of her heart belonging to Barry Allen had fallen short in the past fortnight. While it was true that Iris' bitterness towards him had waned, excitement had hardly taken its place. She was nowhere nearer to saying yes to his proposition of her own volition than she'd been before. And her resigned unhappiness told him what he should have seen all these months under the DeVoes' care.

Barry and Iris had stopped seeing each other. Something had happened recently to cut short their meetings, which he knew was to his benefit. But it didn't make Iris fall out of love with Barry. It only made her long for him more. Because his absence in her life was not due to his betrayal but to the DeVoes most likely forcing them apart. And star-crossed lovers being apart by force was no solution to subduing their feelings. If Julian truly wanted Iris to even consider him as the man of her heart, there had to be a betrayal from Barry. She had to decide he wasn't worthy of her love.

The current strategy was an inadequate one, and annoyingly he felt he was to blame for putting a supposedly perfect plan in the hands of his tutor.

Footsteps approached from down the hall and Julian knew he was going to burst. If it was anyone but his father, he was going to explode. In fact, even if it was his father, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hold back. He would pay for it later, but with how much he was boiling over he didn't know if he could help it.

"Sir Julian," his tutor said, the calm voice angering Julian further. "You called for me?"

Julian turned towards him suddenly, the fury evident on his face.

"You are upset," he concluded.

Julian debated whether to draw it out, make his infuriating tutor figure out for himself. But he didn't have the patience for that. He needed answers. Now.

"You told me you were going to fix the situation with Iris," he barked. "I waited for things to change, but she does not love me any more than she did before I told you, before you promised to change things for my benefit. If I had the ability to punish you for this, I swear I would."

Eobard looked at him calmly and walked further into the room, languidly taking a seat.

"I promised you nothing." He folded his hands in his lap.

Julian stalked over to him. "You said-"

"I confirmed openly what you desired. You did not deny it, and I did not agree to pursue any course of action except to drop the subject and pretend as if it had never been spoken about."

Julian's jaw dropped. It was true that no contract had been drawn up, no words had been officially spoken, but he'd assumed the nonverbal cues were one in the same. He'd assumed Eobard Thawne was taking down Barry Allen and his loyalty from Iris West in secret.

Had he truly been so mistaken?

"However," he continued, pulling Julian out of his wild thoughts. "I will not say that young Bartholomew and Maid Iris' now strained relationship was completely without my influence."

Julian's eyes narrowed.

"What did you do?"

Eobard shrugged. "It is of no consequence. At any rate, it was only the first step."

"A foolhardy step," Julian bit out. "They are quite possibly more enamored with each other than they were before!"

"Quite possibly, yes," he allowed.

Julian could not react with words. He stood there, mind blown, bursting at the seams, eyes blazing.

"There were two possibilities you were willing to explore, if you recall."

Julian swore he could feel smoke blowing out of his nostrils and his ears. He felt like an angry dragon about to slaughter its prey.

"The only possibility I care about is turning Iris against Barry, making her love me instead, making her detest him, making her want him dead."

Eobard raised his eyebrows.

"You were also willing to have him disappear."

Julian forced his mind to clear.

"He has disappeared. They are not seeing each other any longer. It has changed nothing."

"Disappeared from town. Thought to be dead or at the very least on the run. Isn't that another very desirable option?"

Julian's hands clenched and unclenched. He told himself to breathe.

"A false accusation," he said, remembering. "A convincing one."

Eobard nodded. "Indeed."

Julian blew out a gust of air and sat in the chair opposite his tutor.

"And how does separating Barry and Iris further aid in this?"

Eobard looked contemplative, as if he should keep his secrets to himself. In the end, he apparently found it acceptable to share some of his plan.

"Lovers torn apart have a way of finding each other."

"It has been a fortnight." Julian waved his arm about. "They have not seen each other. I would know it from Iris' demeanor towards me."

"It is only a matter of time," he assured. "Barry will find a way to her. And when he does, he will be walking into a trap."

Julian relaxed into his chair, wanting to believe it.

Finally, he said, "How do I know I can trust you?"

Eobard smiled serenely. "Because I am your tutor. Your welfare is my top priority."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Written for Day 23 of my _25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction_ event.

 ***** Many thanks to **sendtherain** for beta'ing.

 ***** I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

 **Chapter 4 -**

He almost had everything he needed.

The worn satchel in his hand held all manner of tools as well as hardy rope to get them both up and down the wall in one piece, and a couple apples if they had to be on the run for a while. Barry felt he was fully prepared for the task of sneaking out of the house, meeting Cisco in the woods, and rescuing Iris West.

It was a reckless, foolhardy mission, and the future was uncertain and dangerous. But with Iris by his side, he knew they could do anything. And he also knew they couldn't stay in Collin Woods after she'd been rescued. He'd be accused of kidnapping and she'd be at risk for who knows what punishment on her involuntary return.

No, they would have to leave Collin Woods.

Central City was two hundred miles away, but there was rumor of a wild man living in Black Pine forest twenty miles in the same direction. Most feared him because of his title and the legend that told how he tore a bear in half to keep it from running away and could create fire from his own hands. Legend also said he'd dug up his own cave in the earth and lay there in wait for his next prey to come across his path. He never hungered or thirsty and he spoke no coherent language. But his strength made him a man to be feared and many avoided Black Pine forest because of it.

But to hear Cisco tell it, the wild man was only to be feared by animals, and when he saw someone in need he protected them for as long as they were in the forest. Barry decided to believe in that part of the legend, because he would need a friend after he and Iris left. Especially one with great strength who would protect them and help them get to where they could build a new life.

Still, all of his planning and the happiness he knew would come when he and Iris were finally safe and together could not dull the pain of what he would be leaving behind. Cisco, his best friend. His parents. There would be no long tearful goodbye. And he didn't know if he'd ever see them again. He just hoped that somehow they would know he was all right and would wish him all the best. That was all he could ask for.

Barry opened his window a crack, preparing to leave, then thought twice about it. Apples were certainly a good start for a twenty mile hike through the woods in the middle of the night, but they just might need something more to sustain themselves for the long journey ahead.

Setting his satchel on his head, Barry quietly peered out into the hall and then crept into the kitchen to snatch himself a couple loves of bread and a handful of carrots. Satisfied by his findings, he turned to head back to his room and found himself looking straight into the suspicious eyes of his mother.

"Late night snack?" Nora asked, glancing pointedly down at his arms.

He shrugged, miraculously holding back nervous laughter.

"I didn't eat much at dinner. My stomach started to rumble."

"No, you most certainly did not." She frowned and went to retrieve what was likely more food.

"Oh, mother, you don't need to-"

She set the food on the table as well as a couple plates and pulled out a chair for herself and one for him.

"Sit with me," she said. "I've hardly gotten two words out of you since you started working at the Smithy."

Barry sighed and then reluctantly came to sit with her. He didn't want to leave on bad terms. And she was right. He hadn't been very talkative. Helpful, but not talkative. Not engaging on an interpersonal level.

Was that really how he wanted to leave his parents behind?

He knew it wasn't.

"So, how are things going at the Smithy?" she asked, pouring herself some hot tea.

Barry nodded. "Good. I'm learning a lot."

She smiled. "That's good. I'm glad." She blew over her hot drink. "Anything you've made for us?"

He took a bite of his bread and chewed slowly when she gestured to it.

"No, I don't think so," he said after swallowing. "Everything I've helped to make we either have already or have no use for."

She took a sip of her tea. "And what haven't we use for?"

He thought about what he'd started to make today and what he'd been trained on the last several days.

"Weapons," he said, and that made Nora still. "Swords."

She lowered her cup. "I see."

Silence stretched out, awkward and painful. Barry wished he could fix it. But he also knew he had to get going and that hopefully he could smuggle some of the food without his mother noticing back to his room so he could take it along for Iris.

"I should go back to bed," he said finally.

"Right. Of course." Nora stood to her feet to walk with her son out of the kitchen. "Oh, wait, Barry."

He turned around, his brows furrowing when he saw the apple in her extended hand.

"You'll need this," she said.

He took it hesitantly and looked at her strangely. "For what?"

She closed the distance between them and lovingly stroked the side of his face, tears welling in her eyes when she threaded her fingers through his hair.

"For what lies ahead."

His mouth dried.

"Your father and I love you so much," she said, her voice full of emotion. "And we're so, so proud of you."

"I'm not going anywhere," he lied, embracing her tightly.

Nora didn't respond, even as she held him back just as fiercely. Barry wondered how she could know, how she could possibly know that he planned to leave. He hadn't decided on it until today, just hours ago with Cisco. He'd been contemplating it since he last saw Iris, but he hadn't said anything to anyone.

"Goodnight, my beautiful boy," she said, running her hand over his cheek one more time before taking a step back.

He saw the words in her eyes she wouldn't speak. _A mother knows her son_.

"I love you, mother," he said, not wanting to leave without her knowing, needing that to be the last thing he said to her. Then he pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek and vanished down the dark hall.

He waited half an hour before leaving, just long enough for his mother to turn in for the night. And when he was finally outside, he looked back at his home, lamenting for a moment the wonderful place he'd grown up in and the parents who loved him.

Then, he turned away, refusing to look back, and ran off into the night.

…

Their soft shuffling as they neared the stone wall came to a halt when they hit the shadow on the north side. Both boys shared a look before nodding. Being taller than Iris, Barry knew he could be up and over the top quicker than she had been. Never having been inside though, he'd have to be aware of what could be at the bottom. If there were dogs and he woke them, he couldn't foresee this plan going through successfully at all.

One step up the wall and Barry could feel Cisco lightly yanking at his sleeve.

"What?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Are you sure about this?"

Barry's face fell.

"I mean, are you really sure? I am with you all the way if you are, but I need you to be sure."

Barry came back on the ground and faced his friend, gripping his shoulders to reassure him.

"I'm sure, Cisco. I have to do this. If I don't…Iris will be locked away forever or in a marriage with a man she doesn't love, and I'll never find love again. I know it."

"But…what about…" He looked down at the ground, a beat away from twiddling his thumbs.

"You're my best friend, Cisco. If you want to run away, if you really want to take that risk, come with us."

Cisco's bottom lip trembled, and Barry knew he wouldn't do it. He wanted to. He wanted to be with his best friend more than anything. But he didn't want to be a burden, and he didn't want to leave his life behind either.

"I'm…sorry."

"It's okay." He gripped his arms. Cisco's head fell. "It's _okay_."

"Well, get going already." He gestured to the wall. "I'll signal you if someone's coming."

Barry nodded, his lips sliding into a gentle smile.

"Thanks, Cisco," he said, and climbed up the wall.

There were no dogs when Barry reached the other side. The huge yard was vacant of all life, and when Barry looked ahead to the looming house and saw Iris' window, he knew this was the biggest moment of his life. But he wasn't going to turn back. He couldn't.

Analyzing the structure of the house, Barry saw where he could climb so he could reach the window and stand safest to let himself inside. There was no way he was going to try to go through any door on the first level or even a window there. Iris had to be locked inside. There was no other explanation for why she hadn't been able to meet him.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly crossed the yard. He wrapped the strap of his satchel over his neck and left shoulder and began to climb, using the protruding stone bricks and vines to assist. When he reached her window and found the bars nailed across, he opened his satchel and quietly pushed aside his handful of tools until he found the one he was looking for. Slowly, carefully, he pulled out the nails and took the bars in his arms. In one fell swoop, he was inside Iris' room and gently setting his satchel and the window bars to the side.

The clink on the floor caused her form to spring up.

"Who's there?" she whispered harshly, and he saw her reaching for something – he hoped a weapon, because he knew she was a force to be reckoned with when she was threatened. But to his surprise and horror, she was looking to light a candle.

"No, Iris, don't!" he whispered hurriedly back. "It's me! It's me!"

She froze, trying to make out his form in the dark room. He took two more steps until his face was in the moonlight shining through the window just behind her, and when the recognition crossed her face she broke down in tears.

"Barry?"

"Oh, Iris."

He came to her as she rose from her bed. He held her tight, inhaling her scent, memorizing again the curves of her body and how she felt in his arms.

"Oh, Barry, you shouldn't- you shouldn't-"

She tried to pull away, but he cut off her protests with a kiss, and she sank into it, abandoning any fight she had in her. She clutched his garments, pulling him still closer, and kissed him with all the desperation and love she'd been fighting to keep under control since they last saw each other. When they reluctantly broke apart, they were breathing hard.

"I thought- I thought I'd never see you again." She sniffled, still clutching at his lapels. "Not like this at least. Not up close."

He cradled her face in his hands, wiping away her tears.

"I know, I know. Me too. And I was so worried about you. I didn't know what happened, if you were okay," he babbled.

"Mrs. DeVoe was in my room when I got back that night," she confided. "She's had me locked in my room ever since. She starved me for days when I didn't act in the way she deemed appropriate. Oh, Heavens, it's been awful." She lay her head on his chest, and he held her tighter. "But you shouldn't be here."

She pulled back suddenly to look up into his eyes, willing him to see how serious she was.

"She said if I ever tried to leave again or if you tried to see me that she would ruin your family, that your life might even be at risk. I can't- I couldn't bear if something happened to you, or your mother and father. I…I couldn't bear it."

"So let's not risk it," he said.

Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"Come with me. Now. Tonight." He wrapped his hands around hers and gripped them tightly. "Run away with me."

Iris' heart was aflutter, but still she worried.

"But…what about your parents? And what if you get caught?"

"If they're trying to punish me, but I'm not around? What reason would they have to hurt my mother and father? I wouldn't be here to see it."

"Oh, Barry," she softened, and he knew what she was thinking. His parents were so good, and here he was willing to risk never seeing them again and even their safety just to rescue her and be with her.

"You're worth it, Iris," he said. "You won't convince me you're not."

She licked her lips, debating. She was so nervous and uncertain about this plan.

"It's now or never," he said. "If we delay much longer we may be caught, and who knows what may happen then."

She took a breath and nodded.

"Okay."

"Yeah?" A smile stretched across his face.

"Yeah, yes! Let's do it."

He kissed her quickly and interlaced their fingers together. Iris looked up at him with starry eyes.

"I would run anywhere with you, Barry Allen."

His heart thudded loudly in his chest, butterflies spreading happiness throughout every fiber of his being. This was going to work. And they'd be okay. Everything – _everything_ – would be fine.

But just as they were turning around to head for the open window, to run away from all their problems and finally be free, they found themselves face-to-face with not Marlize DeVoe, eager to follow through on a threat that would destroy them, but Clifford DeVoe, the most corrupt man in all of Collin Woods excluding Prince John. Even Julian Albert didn't hold a candle to the greedy, selfish, cruelty of this man.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice ominous but direct. The candle he held cast a fearsome shadow across his face as he focused his eyes on Iris. "Either of you."

"You can't keep him here!" Iris cried.

"Iris!" Barry protested. There was no way he was leaving without her. He wouldn't leave her alone with this terrible man.

"Of course I can," Clifford said assuredly. "I'm the Sheriff, and I have caught him trespassing – and kidnapping you, my dear."

She swallowed hard. "I don't belong to you," she said daringly. "My father and brother are alive, and when they come back-"

"If they come back. Not that it matters. Prince John placed you under my care. And under my supervision, I have ordered you not to seek out this boy and to refuse his advances if he came to you. My wife told you what would happen if you disobeyed."

She tensed.

"So, what are you going to do?" Barry barked, swallowing his fear of the intimidating man. "Throw me in jail?"

Clifford eyed him, briefly impressed.

"For trespassing, destruction of property, kidnapping, and stealing-"

"I didn't ste-"

"Marlize," Clifford called out, not looking away from the two young individuals before him. "Satchel."

Barry's brows narrowed. He knew he hadn't taken a thing.

But Mrs. DeVoe carried his satchel over and showed them all the contents – it was filled with gold.

"You stole the people's money," Clifford said. "Their tax money."

"What? No, I didn-"

"Now, I will have to charge them again in addition to the twice I have already this week."

"No, you ca-"

"I'm the Sheriff, Mr. Allen. And under the authority of Prince John, I can do whatever I please."

"Y-You ca-"

"You are hereby sentenced to the charges I have previously bestowed upon you and will serve out the rest of your days in Collin Woods prison."

Shocked into silence, all Barry could hear was Iris' protesting cries and falling to the floor in despair. He was so frozen he couldn't move, and he couldn't comfort her, and within moments, he was being hauled out of the room and dragged off to Collin Woods jail. In the morning, a short-lived trial would follow, in which Prince John would make the final verdict, one in Sheriff DeVoe's favor as they conspired against the Allen family.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Written for Day 25 of my _25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction_ event. **  
**

 ***** Many thanks to **sendtherain** for beta'ing.

 ***** I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

 **Chapter 5 –**

The cold rain poured down over Collin Woods with a distinctly cruel wind the day young Barry Allen was transferred from county jail to the royal prison.

Said to spend the rest of his life there, because so severe were his crimes – according to Sheriff DeVoe and Prince John. Until the next full moon, he was allowed no visitors. No one but the guards walked silently passed his cell. He was slid cold grit underneath the impenetrable bars. Being chained as he was to the wall by ankle and wrist, a heavy iron ball latched dragging behind one ankle, he would not eat on the days he could not reach the food shoved into his cell. He would have to watch from just out of reach as flies flew in and devoured his sole meal.

Most of the time Barry lay still on the large cement slab meant to be his bed, the wadded fabric a makeshift pillow beneath his head. Even the birds did not come and chirp by his window, and when he tried to look out of the small square hole in the wall, all he could see was shades of gray – more of the prison, the ground, the guards' attire. There was no color except the blue of the sky, and even now that seemed more void of color than it had ever been before.

He couldn't look at his parents or anyone at the trial. He could hear his mother crying, but he couldn't meet her eyes. His mother and father must be so ashamed. He wouldn't have done a thing differently, but he hated that they had to see this. He hated all of it. And most of all he hated that he didn't know what had happened to Iris. If he thought he was helpless to see what had become of her before, now he was completely incapable. He was more caged up than she had been, and the likelihood of ever seeing her again was slim to none. He would have to be broken out, and he doubted even Cisco, for all his strengths, could manage that.

On day thirty-one, Henry and Nora Allen came to see their son in prison. Nora's eyes were brimming with tears. Henry's face was crestfallen. But Barry forced himself to look at them, so they could see the regret and apology in his eyes, to show that he understood the shame that had befallen them because of what he had done, and even more so because he could no longer contribute to their household. They deserved that from him. They had been deprived of it for thirty days.

"Son," Henry said, stepping forward and wrapping a hand around one of the bars.

Barry couldn't reach him. He could come close, but even with Henry reaching his hand into the cell – which the guard nearby growled at – Barry could only meet him halfway. Henry's arm fell to his side, and Barry succumbed to tears.

"I'm s-so, so sorry, Father. For…for everything. For disappointing you, for-"

"No," Henry interjected. "I'm sorry for not telling you how proud I am of you. To see how determined you are, how much you want to help, and how deeply you love your mother and I and…and Iris."

Barry's eyes widened.

"I know you did exactly what you thought needed to be done. You cause me no shame, nor your mother."

Nora nodded. "We just love you, Barry. We just love you."

And Barry broke down completely, his words almost incoherent.

"I love you both, s-s-so much. I-"

"We know. We know." Nora nodded.

"We love you, too," Henry said. "And we always will. And we will visit you. We will come. You will not be forgotten."

Barry could hardly contain himself. The outpouring of love from his father was more than he'd ever felt before. Not that his father had been unloving before, but since his rejection of the medicinal trade. things had been a little strained. He knew his father still loved him and was doing his best to respect his wishes, but he hadn't felt this level of support in a long time. He only wished it hadn't taken something like this to come to an understanding.

"All right, that's enough!" The guard said gruffly, forcing Henry and Nora Allen to retreat.

"No, no! That's my- That's my baby!" Nora pleaded, but both Henry and Barry reassured her. They would see each other again. This wasn't the end.

…

Late that night, the wind howling outside his window, Barry found it impossible to sleep. He shivered in the cold, no blanket provided. And while rain didn't drip or pour into his cell, the sound of the wicked air still kept him painfully awake, his mind buzzing yet his body tired from the emotional strain put on it that day.

Guards had moved on from his hall. There were none to be seen, and he knew they must be either only walking the main passageways or pacing in front of the entry to the prison. Many slept, never expecting an escape attempt. Barry didn't know if there had ever been one in the history of Collin Woods prison to put this impression upon the lax guards in the night time hours, but he was grateful for it.

Because stealthily, quiet as night, a figure came into view before his cell, and it was not a prison guard.

Barry's eyes widened, and he sat up immediately.

" _Cisco_?"

"Shhh," his friend hushed, pulling out the keys he'd obviously stolen and unlocking the door.

"What are y-"

"I'm getting you out of here is what I'm doing," he whispered harshly. "Can we not wake up the good-for-nothing guards?" He glared up at him, but Barry saw past it and the genuine worry there, and the relief.

"Thank you, Cisco," Barry said, watching as his friend unlocked every shackled locked on him until he was free.

"Yeah, well, what are friends for?"

Barry hugged him tightly.

"Okay, okay, we can hug it out later." Cisco pushed him off, and Barry chuckled quietly. "We've got to get you out of here."

"And then what?" he asked, once they were out of the cell.

"We'll figure that out later."

"You don't have a _plan_?"

Cisco put a finger to his lips, and Barry silenced himself. Miraculously the two escaped unnoticed, a cloudy sky shielding their sight in the open once they'd passed the prison doors.

…

Barry and Cisco ran to the thick of the forest where Cisco thrusted a bag at him from behind a tree. He changed quickly, so he was out of his prison garb and returned to his friend.

"It's your satchel. A different one. This one has food and some money, and a hat newly made by your mother."

Barry glanced up at him. "My…?"

"Yes." Cisco nodded. "This escape plan was not solely put together by me. The Dibnys, your parents and Mr. Raymond all contributed, and we all won't know a thing as soon as you're gone. Everyone loves you and they can't bear to see you locked away. But you have to go, and none of us can come with you or it will raise even more suspicion. People could be-"

"Tortured," Barry concluded. "I understand."

Cisco nodded again. "So, you have to go now. And don't look back. You can't-" He stopped, and his face fell when he realized Barry had found something inside the satchel that he hadn't expected.

Barry pulled it out and found a glittering ring staring back at him. He lifted his wide-eyed gaze to his best friend's.

"From your mother," Cisco told him. "To give to the woman you intend to marry, whoever that may be."

"Cisco."

"It can't be Iris."

"Cisco!" He heaved a heavy sigh. "It can't be anyone _else_."

"The last time you went to see her, you were arrested. Do you know how hard it was to get you out of prison? You can't go back there. You have to go."

"Not without seeing her."

"I knew I shouldn't have taken the ring," he muttered under his breath.

"Even if I hadn't gotten it, I would risk going back to prison to see her just one more time."

Cisco ran a hand through his hair, exasperated.

"Okay, look, you can't- Would you risk all of our lives too? Everyone who went out on a limb to _save_ you?"

Barry hesitated. "Okay."

"Thank you."

"You have to do it."

"What?"

"You have to rescue her and bring her here, so I can say goodbye."

" _No_."

"Cisco."

"No! She'll insist on running away with you, and then everyone who has helped you will be as good as dead."

"Cisco, I can't leave without seeing her. I have to say goodbye. Our last time can't be when I was dragged off to prison. I won't let it."

"Arggh." He sighed roughly. "Okay, fine, look. I'll see what I can do. Don't- Don't move."

Barry nodded. "I won't."

"The things I do for you," Cisco muttered under his breath, and then he was gone in the thick of the trees.

An hour later, just when Barry was really starting to worry, a figure emerged from the trees. Holding his breath, Barry nearly fell to his knees when he saw it was Iris. Cisco was there too, but he hardly saw him, and his best friend knowingly stayed behind so the two lovers could bid their final farewells.

"Oh, Barry." She clutched him tightly, refusing to let go. "I thought I'd never see you again. I thought-"

"I know, I know. Me too."

"It's been so horrible without you. I've cried every night. Marlise told me horror stories of what you must've gone through in prison. I so wanted to visit you, to make it just a little bit easier for you, but I couldn't leave. I couldn't-"

"I know, I know."

He pulled back and kissed her, then pressed his forehead to hers.

"I know."

Iris sighed shakily.

"So, is this it?" She licked her lips. "Do we run?" A tear slipped down his cheek, and she caught it. "We don't, do we? We don't get our happy ending."

Barry lifted his head.

"If anyone but me leaves tonight, everyone in town will be suspect. People might think I had help. They might be interrogated, even tortured if it's more than one. And you? You and me? That's… They'll go after my family, after Cisco and his family, and the Dibnys with all their little children…"

Iris' eyes filled with tears.

"I understand."

"I wish it didn't have to be this way." He swallowed hard. "All I've ever wanted was just you and me and our happy ending."

She nodded, trying not to sob.

"Me too. That's all I want still."

He sighed. "I know."

"Where will you go?"

"Cisco gave me some ideas," he said, deciding not to tell her about the wild man in Black Pine forest. "I'll be okay."

"And will… Will you ever come back to me?"

Heartbroken, Barry tried to find the words. To help him, he fiddled around in his satchel for that most precious memento.

"I don't want to marry Julian. He's awful, just terrible. I can't marry him, Barry. I can't. I'd rather di-"

Iris held her breath as the ring came into view, a beautiful magenta jewel shining in the center.

" _Barry_." She took it from him to marvel further at its beauty. "It's… It's-"

"Yours."

Her eyes flashed to his. "What?"

"It's from my mother," he explained. "She wants me to give it to the woman I intend to marry."

Iris' heart leapt into her throat.

"I can't imagine that being anyone other than you."

"I…I don't know what else to say."

"Say you'll marry me, Iris."

Tears filled her eyes. "But…But you're leaving. And you'll be wanted the rest of your life. You can never come back here, or your life will be at risk. You _have_ to go. And you won't let me come with you. I don't know how we could ever-"

"Is that a yes?"

Iris wanted to protest further. She'd given him so many legitimate concerns, and he hadn't addressed a single one. But she was so in love with him, and she wanted to believe. She _would_ believe in their happy ending as long as he wished it of her.

"Yes," she said, giggles slipping out of her as soon as the smile spread across his face. "Yes, yes! Of course!"

He picked her up and spun her around all the while smiling, and he kissed her soundly when he set her down. Then he took the ring from her grasp and slid it onto her finger. She felt like she was flying.

"Make it into a necklace if you have to," he said. "Anything so you don't lose it. I need you to have it when I come back for you."

She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "You're coming back?"

He nodded. "I know it's impossible now, but I'm going to find a way to come back. I'll clear my name, and we can finally be together." He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed each finger, then met her eyes. "Do you believe me?"

And in that moment, she did. She really, truly did.

"Yes," she said. "I believe you."

He kissed her again and again and again, and then held her close because God knows how long it would be until he could hold her in his arms like this again.

"Barry…" Cisco said after a while, a warning in his voice as the sky started to lighten.

"I know." He took a breath and took a step away from Iris, holding onto her hand until the last possible moment. "I love you, Iris," he said, his heart pouring out to her with every word. "I'll always love you."

"I love you," she gasped, unable to keep her tears locked away.

"I'll come back to you. I promise."

Then he picked up his satchel, gave a quick, fierce hug to his best friend for whom he would forever be grateful, gave them each one more meaningful, loving look and disappeared into the night.

Her whole heart stolen from her, Iris forced herself not to break down. Not when Barry wasn't there to pick her up again.

"Iris…" Cisco urged, and she forced herself to snap out of it. To go back with him to her prison and be in her bed before either DeVoe was the wiser.

The return was a success. She thanked Cisco profusely, hugging him just before he left, and then tucked herself into bed. She looked longingly at the beautiful gem on her finger and then held it close to her chest.

"Come back to me, Barry," she whispered, imagining his arms wrapped around her in a room they could call their own. "Come back to me."


	6. Epilogue

**A/N:** Written for Day 25 of my _25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction_ event.

 ***** Many thanks to **sendtherain** for beta'ing.

 ***** I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

 **Epilogue -**

Two days journey from Collin Woods, Barry began to fear he may have gotten lost.

He tried to follow the map Cisco had given him, but he was surrounded entirely by trees, and all of them looked the same. He'd been lucky enough not to come upon poor weather, but his food was running low and his mouth was dry for lack of water. He was weakening and growing more tired by the hour. It made him wonder if his family and friends had helped him escape one death only for him to be thrust into another.

But he would not give up. He would be strong. He had sworn to Iris he would come back to her, that he would figure a way out of this mess he'd fallen into. He couldn't do that if he died less than three days after he'd left. She'd spend the rest of her life thinking he'd abandon her. He couldn't allow that to happen. He wouldn't. This endless forest would not destroy the hope they both still had for a promising figure.

Iris was what kept him going, what made him take one step in front of another, and another after that. But by daybreak on Day 3, he was really starting to hope for some divine intervention.

Some hours later, around what he assumed was noon due to the heat, finally Barry saw some of the landscape start to change. There were some hilly ground, grass, and a very small pond off to the right. The trees weren't so thick as they had been, and as unexpected as ever, a small robin flew right up to him and perched on his shoulder, tweeting away as if he were a tree that just happened to be moving.

Barry expected the bird to fly away within a few minutes, but it didn't happen. The bird flew around him or beside him, but often he rested on his shoulder. Sometimes there were long period when it thankfully remained silent, but Barry found he enjoyed the company. It helped take his mind off his hunger pains and his life pains really. In fact, he became so focused on the bird and the pleasantly changing landscape, that he stumbled right over an elevated dirt mound and tumbled into a long sloping tunnel that ended in a large square room he could only imagine existed some several feet below the surface.

And sitting there across from him was who he could only guess was the man of legend. His fair hair was matted, and his scraggly beard grew past his chin. His shirt was sleeveless, though there were several other articles of clothing in the far corner, and his shoes looked large and solid and necessary for the type of life he was leading – Barry decided.

"Are you…" Barry tried. "Are you the-"

"Wild man?" the man finished huskily. "The one of legend?"

Barry's jaw dropped, his eyes wide open.

"I suppose I am." He reached for a tin cup and brought it to his lips that were barely visible through the hair. "Though I can tell you right now that I have never torn a bear in half." He chuckled.

Barry's lips twitched. "Yeah, I, um…never believed that part of the legend anyway."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"Not that I don't think you could do it!" he insisted, to which the man slowly smiled.

"What's your name, lad?"

"I, well, I-"

"No, don't tell me. It's better if I don't know. Especially if you've come to me for help."

"I have," he said. "I need to start a new life far away from here, but…I don't know how."

"So you're on the run." The man picked up a pipe, lit it, and inhaled, blowing smoke out shortly after. Barry tried not to cough. "I suspected as much." He contemplated the youth before him. "How old are you, son?"

"Fif-" He coughed. "Fifteen, Sir."

"No 'Sir,'" he corrected. "That's too formal. We have to be at ease with one another or you'll never trust me and I may never help you. In time you will know my name."

Barry frowned, troubled.

"But you don't want to know my name."

"Your _given_ name. I think I can help you just fine without it. You can stay with me for a few days, and then I can show you how to get on without me."

"Okay, so what-"

A familiar tweeting interrupted him, and before Barry new it, his new friend had settled on his shoulder again.

The man's eyes narrowed.

"I see you've let this scum get attached to you," he growled.

Barry's brows furrowed. "It was nice to have company."

"Hmm. You don't like being alone, you say."

"Well, not for days at a time," he admitted. "And not without food in my stomach."

The man chuckled. "I don't doubt it. Looks like I won't be alone while you're here either. You'll be as much of a pain as that bird is to you."

"But the bird isn't a pain."

The man smiled through his matted beard. "Indeed."

He dug around through some things sitting beside him and eventually held up an overcoat. It looked light and yet somehow warm, and it had a hood Barry knew would come in handy when it was raining.

"Here. Try this on."

Barry did as he was told, the bird briefly taking flight until the coat was on and buttoned in front. He pulled the hood up over his head and delighted in the thickness and warmth of it in the cool underground where he was now contained. He glanced over at the little bird and smiled, oblivious to the way the man was analyzing him in the moment.

"I like it," he said, and the man nodded.

"It suits you, Robin."

Barry looked over at him. "I'm…sorry? That's not my-"

"Don't tell me your given name. It will do you no good," he scolded. Barry closed his mouth. "Here you are Robin." He smiled slowly. "Robin Hood."

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know your thoughts!


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